


Silver Platter

by emmaliza



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dark, Other, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-19
Updated: 2010-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-06 11:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a party - can't he just not think for five seconds?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silver Platter

“Dick, you're going to hurt her or something, man,” _It won't hurt._ And Dick is humming. Cassidy suddenly feels really uncomfortable and not entirely sure what's going on, and why they're here, and why the hell Veronica Mars is conked out like that anyway.

“Oh. I'd hurt her,” Dick smirks, looking at the comatose blonde, not his panicking little brother. “You... she might not even notice,” well, from the looks of it, Veronica isn't in much state to notice anything, so Cassidy would guess that wouldn't hurt, so it couldn't be that bad?

“This is so not even funny,” Cassidy stutters out, and he's seriously not sure if it's meant to be. He honestly can't tell if his brother is kidding, if this was normal – the examples showed...

“What's the problem?” Dick snaps at him, and Cassidy really wants to ask him the same sort of question: What is the problem? _Is this wrong? Is this normal? Are you just trying to fuck my mind over? Does it matter it's Veronica Mars? Do you know what I...._ his last question trails off in his head. No. He'd never ask that.

“You're like – You're like, serious? You're not just trying to get me to do something stupid, so you can laugh at me?” this is not okay. This situation is in an entirely different continent to okay.

_It'll be okay. I don't want to hurt you._

Cassidy shakes the thought out. So not what important right now.

“You know, she's actually kind of hot. When she's quiet,” Dick observes, and Sean just stands there. Cassidy looks at him to see if he's giving off some kind of cue Dick isn't, because Beaver seriously can't figure out if Dick is being serious, or making the cruelest and most deadpan joke in human history. Dick's never been known for being deadpan, and Sean's giving nothing away – so, wait, he was actually meant to do this?

“Perfectly nice piece of ass,” Dick continues, and Cassidy cringes a little at Dick's crudeness. “Ready and willing.”

“Dick, she's not willing – she's unconscious,” _could be worse_, chirps a voice at the back of Cassidy's head and he really wants to shut that voice up – not relevant. Cassidy walks over to Dick and Veronica, the girl who certainly doesn't look like she's panicking, or in danger – she almost seems to be smiling.

Dick stands up. “Kind of the best you're gonna do, bro,” and then Veronica stirs a bit. Cassidy looks at her, hoping the girl who was the focus of all this could give him some kind of clarity about what the hell was really going on.

“I'm cold,” she whimpers, eyes still closed. Cassidy stares at her a little. Was she okay with this? Would she able to say if she wasn't? Does it even matter? Should it? Really? Would it be okay?

“Veronica?” he timidly asks her, then Dick and Sean burst out laughing. _Okay, not my best move._

“Don't worry about it,” Sean steps forward, finally speaking, but not acting much different to Dick. “Beaver over here is gonna keep you nice and warm... ain't that right Beav?”

“Uh. Yeah. Sure,” _help me god what's going on help me god what's going on help me god what's going on..._

“Why doncha put an arm around her?” Dick laughs. “Y'know, show her you care.”

Cassidy shoots an annoyed look at his brother. “Would you quit it?” _Okay, the popular vote is saying “do this”._

“What? Not your type?” Sean comments, and Cassidy grits his teeth as he knows exactly where this is going. “Actual girl and all, I'd say I get it, but, y'know, not queer...”

Cassidy looks down. “Dude, shut up,” _it's okay see it's not that bad I'm not hurting you it's not the same thing no-one has to know..._ “I'm not.”

Dick rolls his eyes. “Then dude, what are you waiting for?” Cassidy hesitates, but Dick just goes on. “You need me to get you started?

Sean comes in. “I could draw you a diagram...”

Dick walks forwards and runs his hand up Veronica's thigh, and suddenly Beaver feels very, very sick.

_It's okay. Team spirit and all. Go on, touch him._

No. Whatever the hell was happening, he was not turning her into a free-for-all. “Look, fine. Just go, okay?”

“That my boy,” Dick laughs and ruffles Cassidy's hair, who flinches a little.

Dick and Sean leave and Beaver's left staring at Veronica Mars. Okay, yeah, she's pretty hot. And pretty unconscious. She'll probably never know, long as Cassidy neatens her up after.

She whimpers at little again, still flicking between consciousness and unconsciousness. “Veronica?” Cassidy asks her, but gets no answer. _Unconscious again. Just stay that way already if you must._ God, what was he doing? _You're just being stupid. Get it done already._

Slowly, he starts to reach for his belt. He shakes his head, this is wrong. Possibly. Okay, he doesn't have real evidence it's wrong, but he felt... Wrong.

He leans down to the sleeping girl, and weirdly enough, plants a kiss. It feels twisted, to be all soft and gentle like this, but he guesses “twisted” isn't that bad an adjective for him, so it's what he does. He suddenly finds his hand up her dress and his heart's beating a million miles and hour and he thinks he can feel tears – his tears – on her cheek.

_Don't worry about it._

He break the “kiss” and shakes his head. Stop thinking. Just do it.

His pants come off and she's still asleep and he's just trying not to think for five seconds. Then it feels... well... nice, and that makes it a hell of a lot easier to stop thinking. And then she stirs again.

“...Beaver...?”

She somehow recognizes him, and a little bit of him twists in anger at the nickname but he then he sees how pointless that is given what's happening and he actually smiles at how strange he's being. And then he looks at her and she looks confused and scared and that's suddenly how he feels.

“Shh, shh,” he runs a hand over her cheek and tries to stop himself panicking. “I won't hurt you, it'll be okay. Trust me, it'll be okay,” and the words feel sick on his skin and she doesn't look like she believes it and neither does he, but it's all he can say, and then she's unconscious again and he closes his eyes because he suddenly needs to feel like this isn't happening.

And suddenly he's done and it's a bit of a shock, really. He pulls out and looks at her, and she doesn't look that bad. Well, a little bad. Like she's had a rough drunk night and passed out, not like she's just been... like someone's had sex with her.

He pauses for a bit because he's tired and not sure what to do. And then he realizes he actually has to start cleaning up if he really did want her not to know. Okay, she's surfaced a few times, but he's fairly sure she can forget about all that. He hopes so anyway, and it makes him shiver that he does.

He puts her underwear back on, blushing a little as he does so, despite how stupid that is given what he just did, he never claimed to be logical – okay, maybe he did, being a Math and Science whiz and good with logical concepts and all. Whatever. His mind feels like it's babbling as he puts her under the covers, as he's trying his hardest not to think, so he's thinking of everything he knows, because that's the way his mind takes instructions. Then he stops and notices something.

He left a bruise on her arm.

And then he just starts to cry. He sobs like he hadn't in longer than he could remember (_Liar,_ he knows exactly when he last cried like this) and he's not entirely sure why. She certainly isn't crying, and that makes him laugh a little, and then that makes him run out of the room to hurl.

Carrie Bishop looks at him like he's a piece of gum stuck to her high heel, and he realizes he could have found a better place to throw up than her shoes, but there is really not room in his head to care about that at this very moment and he scowls at Carrie as he leaves, despite the fact he has no reason to be angry with her.

He sneaks off home because he really doesn't need anyone to know he exists right now, and Dad's at some business thing, and there's no trophy wife right now (he wins $200 from Dick if the next one's not actually blonde) , so Beaver's alone with his thoughts and his serious desire to get rid of them. He rummages through every cupboard in their whole goddamn mansion because he, for the first time in his life, gets that desire Dick always has, to be completely wasted.

He laughs as he drinks until he passes out. And he's not sure why.  
\---  
It's a couple of weeks later when he finally sees Veronica Mars. She's gotten her hair cut, and he's not sure he likes it, as the long hair always gave her that sweet-girl look, no matter what happened, but maybe she doesn't want to be the sweet girl – given how her family tried to wreck the Kanes and everyone who loved them – the whole goddamn town – the change might be a good thing, an accurate. Or Cassidy's really good at justifying things internally, and hence gets to decide she's a terrible person.

He manages to look her in the eyes and approach her, and she looks at him, well, confused. For a second he's terrified she's figured it out, and then he realizes she'd look more than confused if she had – and then, for some reason, he's terrified she hasn't.

“Beaver? ...You are here... why?”

“My name is Cassidy,” he reminds her gently, and she looks scornful. He starts to stammer: “I.. I just...” _raped you less than three weeks ago and want to know if you've figured it out yet?_

“You need a minute, collect your thoughts?” she looks harsh but not hating and he knows he really can't follow that instruction in 60 years, let alone 60 seconds. “57... 56... Tick-tock,” and the countdown makes his head hurt. What happens then?

“Are you okay?” he blurts out, and she looks at him strangely.

“Yeah. I'm okay.”

He wanders away from the disjointed not-really-a-conversation, and he believes her.


End file.
